A white boy from Philadelphia who worships overtly at the altar of black music, G. Love might be a walking ethnomusicology target, a singer whose every drawled note and moaning inflection could invite ridicule from those who know their history. What redeems him is a finely developed sense of rhythm: He's a dedicated student of the blues, New Orleans parade beats and hip-hop chant, and he's distilled these once-disparate styles into an instantly recognizable, ramshackle groove, a pulse that encompasses elements of butt-shaking music from Louis Jordan to the present.

On his third album, Yeah, It's That Easy, G. Love tries to grow that groove up. Ambling, strutting backbeats that once accompanied raps on the virtues of street basketball now provide the soundtrack for keen-eyed commentaries on senseless violence and the legacy of American imperialism. The title track explores one view of our country's poverty spiral in nursery-rhyme cadence – joblessness leads to drugs, drugs lead to guns, and "guns lead to mothers losing their sons." The smooth Blackbyrds update "Lay Down the Law" offers a brother's-eye view of an addict, while the blues-tinged vamp "Slipped Away (The Ballad of Lauretha Vaird)" tells the story of a murdered policewoman by focusing on the two young children she left behind. These doses of reality – which share the rhythmic propulsion of escapist pop tunes such as "You Shall See" and "Recipe" – indicate that beneath his laconic demeanor and those gumbo-pot grooves, G. Love is actually beginning to say something. (RS 774)

TOM MOON